


Mama Cat and Needy Kitten

by Calacious



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Age Difference, Comforter Shiro, Kink Meme, M/M, Needy Lance, Prompt Fill, Suckling for comfort, Use of similies, Voltron_kink_meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 15:17:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11626281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calacious/pseuds/Calacious
Summary: Lately, Lance has become obsessed (perhaps unhealthily so) with Shiro's physique (in particular, his broad chest, and delectable nipples).





	Mama Cat and Needy Kitten

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to an anonymous prompt on Dreamwidth's Voltron_Kink meme( https://voltron-kink.dreamwidth.org/1799.html?view=838151&posted=1#cmt838151 ) in which the requester asked for:   
> Lance has a borderline unhealthy obsession with Shiro's chest. It's so nice and full, and Lance just loves to squeeze it and lick it and settle down for long sessions of suckling at his nipples. That last part kinda weirds Shiro out, but he can still come just from that, because yeah, his nipples seem to have a direct link to his balls.
> 
> \+ Lance refers to Shiro's pecs as "boobs" or "tits".  
> \+ Lance is more prone to wanting to suckle when he's feeling anxious or stressed.  
> Hopefully this works alright. I have not written for Voltron before, and have been rather intimidated by the fandom - I've read some really great stories recently. 
> 
> In my head, Lance is 18 (at least) in this. If he's younger in the mind of the reader, that's okay, but I did not write this as an underage fic.

Turns out, Lance is (at the very least) part cat, or, maybe, given his age (relative to Shiro’s), kitten. 

Part slutty, needy kitten.

At least, that’s what Shiro surmises to be the case, because, whenever Lance is stressed, or anxious, or homesick, or just plain needy (sometimes horny), he tends to...well...suckle (there really is no better word for it) at Shiro’s nipples, much like a greedy little kitten seeking out solace at its mother cat’s teats. 

It’s been happening for months now, and Shiro can’t (kind of doesn’t want to) put a stop to it, because stopping it would mean ending a source of comfort for the both of them. It’s kind of nice to be needed by someone who, by all outward appearances, seems to be much more confident than he actually is.

Not that Shiro is Lance’s mother, cat or otherwise. Space Dad, maybe, but that’s not somewhere Shiro really wants his mind to go with regard to the relationship that he’s got going on with Lance (undefined as it is, Shiro is  _ not _ into Daddy!kink). Shiro pushes that thought as far out of his mind as he can get it. No need to add yet another issue to his already long list of issues.

Really, it’s Lance who has the issues in this case. His issues being Shiro’s irresistible, broad chest (Lance’s words, not Shiro’s) and the fact that Shiro’s ‘boobs’ seem to have a direct link to Shiro’s balls (Lance’s words, nevermind the fact that it seems to be true), which is part and parcel of why Lance is so obsessed with Shiro’s chest. He loves (Lance’s words, again, not Shiro’s) watching, or just feeling, Shiro come undone with a simple flick, or broad swipe of the tongue over a highly sensitive, hard nipple. 

Once, after a particularly harrowing skirmish with the Galra, Lance had told Shiro, glassy eyed as a drunk, that Shiro’s ‘tits’ were so big, supple and ‘tasty’  that he could spend hours lavishing undivided attention on just one of them, but would feel guilty for not giving both of them the equal attention that they deserved. Shiro had come from the thought alone, and had then been summarily treated to the equal attention that Lance had all but purred about in the hollow of Shiro’s ear, voice husky and needy. Shiro had been rendered a quivering, incoherent mess for hours, content to lose himself in the steady pull of Lance’s mouth on his ‘tits’.  _ That _ had been an afternoon to remember.

Shiro shudders at the memory, and returns his focus, to the boy -- paladin, warrior, pilot -- straddling his lap. They’d had another run-in with the Galra earlier that day, and Lance had almost been captured, and had returned, shaking and muttering about how useless he was. Shiro had quickly, before anyone had noticed (hopefully) diverted them to his room where they were currently lying (Lance astride him) in Shiro’s bed. 

Shiro’s balls tighten when Lance latches onto his right nipple, teething and lightly tugging, tongue laving hard at a nipple as he grinds himself against Shiro’s lap. His eyes are closed, and his fingers are digging into Shiro’s sides, gripping and loosening, kneading, just like a kitten’s claws. He’s making little breathy sounds -- tiny grunts, moans that remind Shiro of a cat in heat -- that make Shiro pant and moan in response.

“Baby,” Shiro says, testing the word out. 

He tugs at Lance’s hair, digs his fingers into the flesh of Lance’s left thigh. They’ve never used terms of endearment before. It’s always been about need (Shiro’s need to be needed) and obsession (Lance’s unhealthy one with Shiro’s chest). He’s hard, his balls are aching, and Lance is a warm, writhing weight on top of him. 

“Mm, Shiro?” Lance says, lips gumming around the nipple as he talks. There’s just a touch of teeth that makes Shiro’s skin break out in goosebumps. 

“Gonna come,” Shiro says, hips lifting, guiding him into Lance’s blind thrusting. 

Lance makes a noise that’s a cross between a kitten’s mewl and a question, and then he latches onto Shiro’s nipple and starts to suckle in earnest, breath hot against Shiro’s chest, smooth chin tickling the pectoral muscle with the way it brushes against the heated flesh. Lance’s mouth is warm and wet, and the sounds he makes as he suckles are not unlike the squelching sound that one makes when splashing around in mudpuddles. 

It should be a turn off. 

It isn’t. 

And neither is the way that Lance sucks the nipple, long, hard, and demanding, wanting something that only Shiro can give him. The ‘milk’ of compassion, understanding, acceptance. The act of rendering his leader speechless.

Shiro’s mind is mush, and he thrusts up into Lance who is dry humping him, fingers kneading Shiro’s side as he sucks Shiro dry and red, leaving that nipple plump and hard, and bruised before switching over to the other and making Shiro cry out when he starts out his claim on the hardened nub with a pinching bite that’s sure to leave a mark (one that no one else will ever see, though Shiro will be reminded of it whenever his undershirt brushes against it). 

It all goes straight to Shiro’s balls, and his toes curl up. Lightning strikes, and he comes, hard, weeping, fingers clutching at Lance, anchoring himself, riding out his orgasm as Lance continues to comfort himself at Shiro’s nipples, suckling, fingers kneading, rubbing up against Shiro’s sweat-soaked body, taking what he needs, and giving Shiro what he never knew he needed until now. 

Lance moans, the cry of a kitten in need of something it’s not getting. Desperate. The sound pulls at Shiro’s heart, makes his breath catch in his throat. 

“Sh,” Shiro says, petting Lance’s hair. “I’ve got you, baby.” 

His hands shake in the aftermath of his orgasm, and he runs the fingers of his Galra tech hand through Lance’s sweat soaked hair, his other hand down the younger man’s slick back, petting him until the boy comes, sucking hard at Shiro’s left nipple, fingers bruising Shiro’s hips as they dig in deep, hips jerking as he finally lets go. Lance continues suckling, though it’s lighter, far less desperate than it had been. 

When he’s done, Lance releases Shiro’s nipple, pressing an almost chaste kiss to it, and collapses atop him, a shivering, boneless weight. Shiro shifts them both until he’s got Lance beside him, safely held within his arms, head tucked beneath his chin.

Lance’s, “Thank you,” is soft, and there’s a touch of shame in the whispered words. They never talk about this.

Shiro can feel the heat of a blush as it rushes through the boy’s body, and he tightens his hold on him, kisses the top of Lance’s head, hoping to communicate acceptance and love in the simple act. 

“I’ve got you,” he repeats. The, ‘anytime,’ he hopes, is understood, because it’s true. “I don’t mind,” he adds.

Lance curls into Shiro, arms wrapping around his middle, clinging...cuddling. His breathing evens out into soft snores, almost like the gentle, rumbling purrs of a kitten content after feeding or a good petting. Shiro closes his eyes and matches his breathing to that of Lance’s, equally content, and, for the first time in a long time, happy.

Turns out that, as much as Lance is part kitten, Shiro has to admit (albeit begrudgingly) that he’s probably part Mama cat, and there’s no shame for either of them in that.


End file.
